


Bare

by incubitch



Series: Occult Hospital [3]
Category: Occult Hospital, Original Work
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Bondage, Consensual Kink, Dom/sub, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Platonic BDSM, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Bottom, Power Play, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-25
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-12-07 06:44:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18231323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/incubitch/pseuds/incubitch
Summary: “Let me take care of you.” Mikael had whispered to him. “Let me take control.”





	Bare

**Author's Note:**

> wow hello I am writing more smut because god has abandoned me.  
> this started off with me messaging crybabyghxst and asking for a prompt because she wrote the most beautiful pwp of our boys and I just had to join in as well ;a;  
> I wrote this over the course of multiple days and I refuse to proofread because I have no morals. some things are probably disjointed but I think you can piece together the main idea on ur own. please .... I am a humble farmer and I needed this to be done. tysm 
> 
> Mikael is mine  
> Faust is @crybabyghxst/@canibalisticchershir's  
> Dr Lynexia and the hospital itself belong to @teadracula

  Faust wasn’t entirely sure how he ended up in this situation.

  The exchange of power was mutual, the scenario was unlike anything that Faust had initially pictured in his head. There was no scathing fight for dominance, no forced submission, no cruelty or discomfort. Mikael had asked for reassurance, confirmation that Faust was really okay with _this._

 Of course, there had been talks of shifting their dynamic for a while.

 “ _Let me take care of you_.” Mikael had whispered to him. “ _Let me take control.”_

His hands, delicate as the rest of him, were gentle and possessive as he wound the silk around Faust’s forearms, wordlessly pausing every so often to give the surgeon a chance to back out of the arrangement. Stepping around to the front of him, Mikael had stood on his toes and reached up to remove Faust’s glasses for him, setting them on the nightstand and out of harm’s way. A safeword had been agreed upon, though Faust was almost positive that there was hardly a need for such extensive precautions.

 Despite himself—despite his icy exterior and his stoicism, he wanted this. He wanted to be laid bare. He would find the time to curse himself for his perceived weakness another day.

\--

 He sat against the wall with his legs splayed. Still clothed, his trousers were growing uncomfortably tighter by the minute. The bindings on his arms were tight, his wrists growing pleasantly sore. Mikael stood above him, aloof and unaffected with his arms folded over his chest.

 Mikael had hardly done much of anything that warranted Faust’s arousal. Being under the scrutiny of Mikael’s steely gaze was something totally new, something that Faust had never even really thought about.

 When Mikael had gently placed the sole of his boot between Faust’s legs, he could do nothing to prevent the reflexive jolt of his hips. The reaction amused Mikael, who took the opportunity to press down the tiniest bit more.

 “My, my…” Mikael tutted, adding more pressure with the toe of his boot. “I wonder what Doctor Lynexia would say if he saw his broody little pet writhing for me.”

 “Mikael—” He gasped, straining forward.

 “Easy, now, we’ve only just begun.” And then, “Is that how you address your superiors? By their first names?”

 Faust snorted at the implication that Mikael was his superior, which made Mikael cock an eyebrow. “You can’t be serious.”

 “Can’t I?” When it came, the slap impacted with Faust’s cheek was sharp and hard enough to snap his head to the side. Not expecting the sudden sting, he looked up at Mikael with stupefied eyes.

 Smirking, Mikael eased his foot away, slightly, causing Faust to let out a frustrated groan. The pressure was _almost_ perfect, the friction _almost_ enough.  And then it was gone entirely; the lack of contact was maddening, and Faust saw no point in making himself suffer for Mikael’s own gratification.

 Mikael reached down to touch Faust’s cheek with feigned sweetness, cold fingers soothing over the sensitive flesh. “Let’s try that again, hm?”

 Faust felt himself tense, his throat dry. There was a moment where he almost considered ending this. Saving himself the embarrassment and shame of submitting so openly; but, walking away would be the same as admitting defeat. He swallowed hard before opening his mouth.

  “Please.”

 “Please, _what?”_

 Faust knew what Mikael wanted to hear—however, it didn’t make it any less humiliating.

 “Please, _Sir.”_

 Even with Faust’s mocking tone, Mikael seemed more than happy to have his orders obeyed so directly. He crouched down between Faust’s splayed legs, placing a possessive hand over his crotch, tracing the line of his erection. Their faces were so close, if Faust strained forward just a little…

 “So eager…” Mikael’s hand moved to Faust’s cheek, thumb tracing his lower lip. Faust glared, unable to think of a witty retort. Mikael’s eyes were cold, full of confidence and sly arrogance; he knew exactly what he was doing, and he was enjoying every minute of it.

 Faust huffed a breath when Mikael stood and crossed the room, his hips unconsciously bucking upward at the loss of Mikael’s warmth. Mikael regarded him from a distance, shucking off his overcoat and removing his gloves. He took his time folding the coat and placing it neatly on the ground, knowing fully well that every second that ticked by was like torture for Faust.

 The seconds felt like hours until, finally, Mikael was back in Faust’s lap, with his cold hands on either side of Faust’s face. He was uncharacteristically gentle when he touched the spot where he had hit Faust, the skin already bruising and tender.

 There was something strange in Mikael’s expression, something soft, inquisitive as he awaited any sign of hesitancy. When no such sign came, he leaned in and kissed Faust on the mouth. From its place on his cheek, one of Mikael’s hands moved downward to claim Faust’s throat, squeezing lightly with a grip that was pleasantly tight. He had been choked by enemies in the past and he had enough experience in choking Mikael that he could write a novel on the subject—yet he had never been in a situation quite like this one. Vulnerable and willing to let his defenses down in such a way. There was only one other person who he could fathom submitting to in such a way, but he didn’t want to dwell on such fantasies. Not now.

  Mikael broke away from the kiss just long enough to wriggle out of his trousers (unsurprisingly, he wore nothing underneath), and to free Faust from his own clothing. His blond hair was mussed, his face flushed a pretty shade of red, his demeanor had changed. He was just as eager as Faust, if not more.

  He paused, looking Faust in the eyes and trying to school himself back into a dominant mindset, trying his hardest to sound authoritative even as he ached for release.

“You don’t come until I tell you to.”

  ‘I wouldn’t dream of it, _sir_.” Faust ground out, watching Mikael’s every movement.

  He wanted so badly to grab a fistful of that golden hair, to slam that infuriatingly smug face into the ground, to mercilessly fuck into him and then hold him in the aftermath. _Later,_ he thought, as Mikael sank down onto him and let his head loll backward. He half expected Mikael to draw it out, to make Faust dizzy with frustration and impatience—something led him to believe that Mikael expected that as well.

 It wasn’t drawn out; it was fast, and sloppy, and wonderful. One of Mikael’s hands remained at Faust’s throat the entire time as he stroked himself with the other. Salacious noises filled the room—Mikael’s high pitched, needy moans met with Faust’s rough panting.

 “Faust—!” The kiss was just as sloppy as the rest of it, yet it was strangely comforting. The act was familiar between them, despite the clash of teeth and tongues.

 The sudden, desperate exclamation of his name was enough to let him know that Mikael was ready for him. His body tensed, catching Mikael’s lower lip and biting down; his vision blurred, only for a moment and he came back to himself just in time to watch his partner follow him over the edge.

  Mikael’s climaxes were always theatrical affairs—his eyes rolled back, wailing out a wordless sound of pleasure, body pulled taut as a bowstring and then falling limp against Faust’s chest.

 They breathed together in comfortable silence, Mikael still seated in his lap, arms hanging at his sides, head resting comfortably in the crook of Faust’s shoulder. Absentmindedly, the blond mouthed at the soft skin of Faust’s throat, where his hand had been gripping only moments earlier.

 “Can…” Faust coughed, shifting slightly. “Can you untie me, please?”

 Mikael picked his head up blearily before processing the request. When he remembered what they had just done, what _Faust_ had just done, he moved quickly to free him of his bindings.

  The marks left on his arms were an intense shade of red, but he had no fear that they would be gone by the week’s end. They burned in a way that wasn’t horribly painful—in fact, Faust decided that they would serve as a nice reminder of their activities. Still, Mikael ran his fingertips along the raw flesh.

  “Was that too much?” Mikael asked, sheepishly. It was unlike him to avoid eye contact after sex. Faust wrapped his arms around Mikael’s lithe form, pulling him back down against him.

 “If it was too much, I would have told you.”

 “I just…” He huffed, nuzzling into Faust’s neck. “It doesn’t always have to be like that, if you don’t want it to be.”

  “I know.”

  “You did so well.” Mikael murmured, voice growing heavy with drowsiness. “Thank you, Faust.”

  “Don’t fall asleep.” Faust whispered, nipping at the shell of Mikael’s ear, causing him to stir.

 “Hm? Haven’t finished with me yet?”

 “Actually, I’d prefer not to be trapped on the ground when you have a perfectly serviceable bed less than one hundred feet away.”

 “ _Perfectly serviceable_.” Mikael echoed, mimicking Faust’s accent and then quickly leaning in to kiss the tip of his nose.

  Faust hoisted the both of them up with ease, Mikael’s legs wrapped tightly around his waist. His body carried a dull ache, but it wasn’t anything that he couldn’t handle.

  Mikael laughed, halfheartedly. “I should be the one carrying you.”

  Faust shushed him as they reached the mattress, curling around his partner and pressing a kiss to the blond hair.

  “Sleep, Mikael.”

  “Is that…” A dramatic yawn as he reached over to shut off the lamp. “Any way to talk to a _superior_ , Doctor Krede?”

  Faust rolled his eyes, smiling a little even as he let his drowsiness wash over him.


End file.
